


In Suspense

by Nimitztlazohtla



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games)
Genre: Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Or a lack thereof, Relationship Negotiation, Romance, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28021755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nimitztlazohtla/pseuds/Nimitztlazohtla
Summary: The Dragon Slayer understands that the Great Lord must always come first.
Relationships: Artorias the Abysswalker/Dragon Slayer Ornstein
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	In Suspense

“I disagree  _ heartily, _ Captain. I believe thou wilt find that there is quite a bit more to life than fighting.”

Ornstein snorted, dismissal evident upon his face like a shroud. Here this far outside of Anor Londo, free of the shadow of the high wall and yonder the bustle of the city, naught but basking in the warmth of the sunlit wood upon his bare face, it was perilously easy to fall victim to one of Artorias’ beloved inane conversations—not that the Dragon Slayer at all found issue in them. The man spoke what was on his mind. What a fine change of pace from the politics of the capitol.

“So sayeth the savage and indomitable Wolf Knight,” he said.

Artorias spun back to him, grinning ear to ear. “Aha! Indomitable, thou callest me?”

“Well, not  _ I. _ But some.”

“Mayhap not on the battlefield; I admit I have room for growth against thee there. But perhaps in… other areas of expertise..?”

Ornstein blushed as soon as the licentious suggestion struck him—perhaps a moment longer than it would have taken another. Artorias always liked to tease that he grew as red as his hair. He wouldn’t be allowed the opportunity again. “Ugh. Truly, Artorias? And besides that, thou skirtest the point. Warfare is our  _ lives. Lord Gwyn _ is our lives. Dost thou understand?”

“Verily,” the Wolf Knight agreed easily enough, “but have we no passion outside of this life? Such as in matters relating to the bedr-?”

“Artorias.”

“Fine.”

The Dragon Slayer recollected himself, running his fingers back through his hair. “And it… it isn't that we mustn’t have any passion whatsoever. I have thee, I have Ciaran, I have Gough— _ ye _ art mine passions. But beyond that, beyond mine oath...”

At that the Wolf Knight seemed struck by a follow-up question, finger raised in the air, though faltered as it got caught on his tongue. Ornstein wasn’t so observant in these matters as Ciaran was, but the slip was obvious. He’d been about to say something to his Captain that he would have regretted. Something heretical. Ornstein’s heart thudded and his palms grew sweaty at whatever it may have been.

_ Prithee. Calm thyself, Ornstein. Artorias is wise to this. He knoweth to quiet himself of anything… incriminating… unlike… _

Quite suddenly, Artorias’ raised finger was upon Ornstein’s nose.

The Lion Knight blinked. “...I beg thy pardon?”

Artorias was smiling again. “Thou art pardoned.”

“I…” Ornstein faltered. The smile was already coming, he couldn’t stop it. He seized Artorias’ finger, and broke down into a laugh. Why did he allow this to happen?

“There he is! There’s my Lion.”

Not that name again. It struck the strangest chord in him as it always did, tickling him from underneath the ribs, and not even necessarily unpleasantly. Ornstein crossed his arms perhaps a mote too tightly, the ghost of his laugh finally leaving him, “Do  _ not _ refer to me as such.” He swallowed. “...I—Artorias, I-”

“Prithee, Ornstein.” No longer was the finger on his nose, but Artorias’ hand was on his chin, drawing his attention directly to his eyes. “If this topic is upsetting to thee, let us dwell on it no longer.”

_ What…  _ Artorias could read him well. For surely he knew where such dissents as his could lead; that Ornstein had spoken only with the best of intentions that their service to the Great Lord was absolute; that they held no outside obligations nor interests. For there had once been a prince with such similar convictions as Knight Artorias, who for those convictions was a prince no longer; who, for those convictions, was lucky to escape from his family and from his birthright with his life.

Ornstein didn’t realize that he had been staring until Artorias’ focus shifted once again. “...By the Lord, what a pretty face.”

“And  _ that _ is enough,” Ornstein said, pushing his hand away once more. If Artorias wanted to play a game of compliments, Ornstein couldn’t possibly compete. This Dragon Slayer would be far outmatched. “Let us return before we are missed.”

“Then willst thou allow me thy hand?”

Ornstein hesitated. Nothing had changed since they came here. No ground was made. No ground was lost. Their vows remained unchallenged for the moment.  ...And so the topic, that of that most vital conflict of interest, could wait another day. 

“...Of course, dear Artorias.”


End file.
